This is the Story of a Girl
by cinnamonscars
Summary: My name is Rosalie Lillian Hale. A year from now, I will be dead.
1. July 3rd, 2009

July 3rd, 2009

How do you live your life when you know it is ending?

I am 16. I should be out with my friends. Only worrying about boys, gossip, sports, and school.

Instead I am constantly worried about my white blood cell count, sterile hospitals, and if the cough the chick next to me has will give me pneumonia.

I have known for exactly 38 hours, 3 minutes, and 13 seconds that I have 6-12 months to live.

What kind of estimate is that anyways? 6 months of uncertainty is an extremely long time.

So many things could happen in the span of 6 months. I could almost have a baby. Hell, some people do.

What do I have to show for the past 38 hours?

I decided to keep a journal.

Ground breaking, really.

Other than that, I have stared at my wall. No sleep. No TV. No internet.

Does any of that even matter anymore?

I am dying.


	2. July 4th, 2009

July 4th, 2009

"Live Like You Were Dying" by Tim McGraw

My life is now officially a country song.

Wonderful.


	3. July 5th, 2009

July 5th

I can't handle the crying.

It is even worse than the constant hugging.

Everyone walks around this house with blank expressions on their faces. Like if they make one wrong move the whole world will end.

I am ruining everyone's lives.


	4. July 6th, 2009

July 6th

My dad and Esme sat me down tonight. They want to make a list of everything I want to do before I die.

So pretty much my life is now a country song and A Walk to Remember. Cool.

Do I at least get young, hot Shane West out of it?

Probably not.

I don't even know what I would want to do. I mean, jump out of a plane? Bungee jump? Learn to drive a racecar? None of those are me.

I told my dad I always wanted to go to London, Paris, and somewhere in Italy. 45 minutes after our little talk he had booked us a first class flight to London leaving in 3 weeks. Alice even gets to come.

That is kind of cool. Just my dad and my best friend.

I don't know what else to do.

Possibilities:

1. New York City—I have always wanted to see Times Square, Central Park, and see a show on Broadway. Maybe in the fall when all the leaves are changing.

2. Have Jasper teach me how to surf.

3. Move back to Forks—Not for me but for my brothers. It isn't fair that they had to leave all their friends and Edward had to leave Bella just so I could go to a better hospital.

4. Keep playing volleyball.

5. Make sure everyone knows how much I love them.

It's not much, but it will do for now.

A month ago this would have been my dream. People doing whatever they could just to make me happy. Now, I just want to live.

Why is that so hard to ask?


	5. July 7th, 2009

July 7th, 2009

From Wikipedia:

"Osteosarcoma is the second most common primary malignancy of bone. Osteosarcoma accounts for 20% of primary bone malignancies. There is a preference for the metaphyseal region of tubular long bones. 50% of cases occur around the knee. It is a malignant connective (soft) tissue tumor whose neoplastic cells present osteoblastic differentiation and form tumoral bone."

I have malignant Osteosarcoma. It means that instead of growing new bone, my body grew a tumor in my bone. It is at the end of my femur, next to my knee.

I have had knee problems since I was 12. I grew quickly and my joints didn't like it.

I didn't think this pain was any different from that even if it hurt worse.

I play sports. Aches and pains are part of my everyday life. I just learned to suck it up.

I told my dad about it a little over a year ago. My left knee was really bothering me when I was running in soccer and when I was jumping in volleyball. He's a doctor, I trusted his opinion.

He examined it and told me to put ice on it after practices and games. It didn't really help but he told me I was fine so I believed him.

Then the pain got worse.

My knee started swelling up really badly. Even when I wasn't playing. My dad realized that something was wrong and we went to our orthopedist. I got a series of x-rays, MRIs, and bone scans and the answer was always muscle pain or small cysts. Nothing a little physical therapy wouldn't fix.

Except it didn't.

The pain kept getting more severe over the next few months. I could barely sleep at night and was out of volleyball due to the pain. I hate missing games.

My dad was just as frustrated as I was so he called in some favors and got me to a specialist three months ago. When he looked at the scans, he saw something different. Something a lot more severe.

I started getting really nervous when he wouldn't tell me what was wrong.

He called my dad into the office to have a discussion and I sat in the exam room for almost an hour with no explanation.

I thought something was broken. Maybe I needed knee surgery. I could have never predicted the news I was about to receive.

I really don't know how he kept so quiet during the four hour drive back to Forks from Seattle. He gave me a lot of sad smiles and constantly reminded me that I would have to wait until we got home to learn the news.

I was so pissed at him.

It was a long drive home that day.

We got home and told me to follow him into his office.

It wasn't until we were in the house that I truly knew something was wrong.

It was so quiet. Jasper and Edward we sitting on one of the couches in the living room. Esme sat on another one across from them.

She was crying.

I was so confused. All I could think was, "did someone die?" Ironic, now really.

I even forgot that the news my dad was about to tell me was supposed to be about _me_. I was preparing myself for the news of someone else. Anyone else.

When he closed the door, I asked him who died. Why wouldn't he just tell me?

Then he dropped the bomb.

I, Rosalie Lillian Hale, had a tumor on my bone.

I didn't even think it was as bad as everyone seemed to.

I watched Discovery Health Network enough to know that people have tumors all the time. You just take them out and live your life.

He told me it looked serious because of the rate of growth they had seen through the series of x-rays I'd had over the past few months.

But I was in denial.

That denial lasted all of two weeks.

It was almost pleasant. I didn't think about it. Did my best to ignore the pain and everyone in my family. It worked out nicely.

Then I had to go in for a biopsy.

Surgery sucked. Waking up is a real bitch. I was in so much pain.

In reality, waking up was going to be one of the easiest parts of that day.

In the matter of hours I learned that I had stage III Osteosarcoma, which meant that not only was the tumor malignant, the cancer had spread to my lungs, liver, spine, and brain.

I cried for hours.

Everything became so much more than I could handle.

The saddest part was, all I could think about was losing my hair.

Why was that the biggest fear? I could lose my life, but no, not important. Most of the tears were over head vomit. Since, you know, that is all hair really is. Head. Vomit.

I was so stupid.

At this point my survival rate was put at 20 percent. That snapped me out of my hair related funk.

20 percent.

1 out of every 5 people would live.

Not good.

I couldn't even start chemo like normal patients with this cancer would have. Instead, I was sent into surgery to remove as much of the tumor as they could two days later.

That surgery was horrible. They had to make a huge incision to get all the tumor.

The doctors removed as much as they could and chemo was to begin at the end of that week.

Chemo is horrible. The side effects make you want to die when you are trying to fight so hard to stay alive.

The plan was to see how the cancer responded to chemo and then use radiation on the tumors in the rest of my body.

Those plans never quite happened.

My cancer did not respond well to the chemo.

I failed the fight.

The cancer was growing and spreading and my odds of survival kept decreasing as the weeks went on.

15 percent. 1 out of 7 people would survive.

10 percent. 1 out of 10.

5 percent. 1 out of 20.

I kept holding out hope. I could beat the odds. Come out on top. Have a story to brag about for the rest of my life.

I wouldn't give up the will to fight.

Until I got the news six days ago.

There was no chance of survival.

My life changed from centering around percentages to estimated month spans.

6-12 months.

I should actually be thankful for the numbers. I could have been given weeks or even days.

I was given possibly a whole year.

I should be thankful, but I am not.

A year is not a lifetime. I should have 80 years left. Not one.

It may even not be one.

I am so stupid. I should have complained more to my dad about the pain. I should have stood up to the doctors who gave me the cold shoulder told me nothing was major wrong.

I have a high pain tolerance. I knew something was wrong. I just would have never imagined it would be cancer.

I am 16.

I am just too young to die.

___________________

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for everyone's kind reviews. I am going to be posting my author notes in my profile instead of here. I feel like they ruin the flow of the format. I also answered some questions I have been getting.

Thank you again for reading and a special thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Those mean so much.


	6. July 8th, 2009

July 8th, 2009

The Bush School just got three new students.

I am not happy.

It is bad enough that Jasper and Edward had to leave Forks for the summer. Now they have to transfer schools, too.

And I know they are pissed. I hear the harsh whispering around the house. They think I can't hear. They don't want to upset me. They don't know anything.

I don't even understand why they had to move here with us.

Their last memories of me should be happy. Not filled with sadness and animosity.

After I was originally diagnosed, my dad and I moved into a hotel. I loved it. It was almost like we were camping out. Just the two of us.

We would order room service when I felt like I could eat and watch movies together almost every night.

Some days I was even able to forget that I was sick.

He made our nights relaxing. Routine.

If I was having a bad day, he would tell me dumb jokes until I couldn't fight back my smile anymore. He made me happy, just the two of us.

He _allowed_ me to forget.

But he didn't like living out of a hotel. He wanted me in a house. He thought it would be more normal. .

Two weeks into chemo we began the hunt.

He actually let me pick the house. It made me slightly more excited about leaving. He knew what he was doing. He just didn't know how much I enjoyed living in the protection of our hotel. Even he can't always read my mind.

My dad would give me websites of houses he liked then we would go see them. Together.

The house I picked is on an island.

Pretty cool.

We have a dock out to Lake Washington and a pool. I love pools.

But it is big. Too big.

Instead of being packed in a little room, we are both in our own rooms on different sides of the house.

It is lonely.

When we first moved in, I lived in my dad's room. I needed him. He was my comfort.

But then Esme moved in.

She ruins everything.

I have to sleep in my own room again and my dad has started paying more and more attention to her. She needs to be comforted. "This is so hard on her."

Bullshit.

This is hard on _me_.

The boys moved in once school ended.

Both were pissed. Jasper couldn't surf here. Edward didn't have Bella. They blamed me and I am sure they hate me.

I hate me, too.

Welcome to isolation.

I am left alone with my brain at night. My brain is a scary place.

I am ruining everyone's lives.

A year ago this would have been everything I had ever wanted.

Living in Seattle was my dream.

My longing for the city got worse when I started playing volleyball.

The only good club teams were in the city. That meant that Esme and I drove four hours each way twice a week from December to July for two years.

She loved those drives. She called them "girl bonding time."

I called them hell.

To each her own.

I begged and begged to move and it never happened.

Now it is like God is laughing at me. Giving me everything I ever wanted, then taking even more away.

It's cruel.


	7. July 9th, 2009

July 9th, 2009

Today has been amazing.

First, my dad woke me up early to tell me he was getting me a kitten.

I don't think I have ever been so happy in my life.

I have wanted a cat since I could talk, but Edward is allergic.

He likes to ruin everything.

Clearly my impending death now trumps his stuffy nose.

Too bad, so sad, Eddie.

So my dad and I went to four animal shelters today and I finally found the cutest calico kitten ever.

At dinner tonight I announced I was naming her Bella.

My dad immediately said no.

Jasper choked on his Dr. Pepper.

I was glad I was not the only one who found it hilarious.

Her name is Sadie Emerson Hale. The perfect name for such an adorable kitten.

Then, after dinner, I got one of the best phone calls of my life.

Alice is moving in with us for the rest of the summer. She comes on Monday. So exciting.

She is the only person that has never treated me differently since I've been sick.

I love her.

As soon as I got off the phone, I ran into my dad's room to tell him the good news. He just smiled and nodded his head.

He already knew.

There was no way Alice could have convinced her parents on her own.

I shouldn't have been so shocked.

I can't remember last time I had so much good news.

Sadie is currently sleeping on my chest.

Life is good.


	8. July 10th, 2009

July 10th, 2009

I hope Heaven is real.

Everything would be so much more comforting if I knew for sure.

I mean, religion teaches us that it exists but we have no proof. I wish someone from the past could come back and tell us for certain whether or not it is there and what it's like.

If Heaven is indeed real, I am positive my mom is there.

Knowing that I could see her again would make this whole death thing okay.

I've always wanted the chance to say goodbye.

She was such a beautiful person inside and out. Everyone loved her.

I only got her physical beauty.

Some days I wish I could have gotten her inner beauty instead. Having inner and outer beauty would be too much to ask for. Only she could be worthy of total beauty.

She lit up every room she walked in. A smile was always on her face.

She was so caring. Anytime a friend or family member needed anything, she was always there. Nothing was too much to ask. It didn't matter what she was doing, she always put everyone else's needs above hers.

Selfless.

I wish I could have really gotten to know her myself.

Maybe if she'd been alive longer she would have rubbed off on me more.

I tried for so long to be just like her.

But I couldn't do it.

I am a bitter person.

I don't want to smile all the time.

I don't want to hide my disgust for parts of my life.

The saddest part of thinking about my mom is that I don't even know if I even remember her most of the time. Are my memories of her mine, or are they just stories my grandma and her friends have told me?

If I could have anything in the world it would be to have just one day with her.

Twenty four hours to ask her everything a daughter would want to know about her mother.

Who was her first crush?

When was her first kiss?

How did she know she was in love with my dad?

How did she know her marriage was over?

I would ask her about being pregnant with Jasper and me. What went through her mind when she found out she was pregnant with twins?

All the things my dad could never know the answer to.

I do remember my last moments with her.

I wish I didn't.

I was only four.

It was late.

It was raining.

She was driving Jasper and me to our grandma's house in Forks from our house in Seattle. My dad was out of the picture at that time and my grandma was taking us for the weekend.

Jasper and I were asleep in the backseat.

I woke up when I heard the bang.

I couldn't even see my mom from the seat. All I could see was the truck we were under.

I could see Jasper, though.

He was bleeding all over. Every surface of his body was covered.

Bright red.

He was staring at me. Not moving at all. Just locked in place.

Then I heard the screaming.

People rushing to our car.

I was so confused and scared.

A woman quickly got me out.

I couldn't even cry.

I saw my mom when I was out of the car.

Completely covered in blood.

Asleep.

Then my memories become blurred.

A truck hit our car.

It didn't see us.

My mom died instantly. The truck smashing her.

Jasper was cut by all the glass.

He is still covered in tiny scars.

He calls it his "street cred." Kids have made up stories about them his whole life.

I was completely unharmed.

My mom died. Jasper had over a hundred stitches and a permanent reminder.

I got nothing.

I wish I could have taken some of the pain away from my mom. Broken bones. Internal bleeding.

Anything to save her life.

God supposedly gives you all you can handle.

I think He got me wrong.

I have never been able to handle losing my mom.


	9. July 11th, 2009

July 11th, 2009

I thought today would be another monotonous day.

Wake up.

Shower.

Physical therapy.

Lunch.

Nap.

Dinner.

Sleep.

But in the end it had a little spice to it.

It all began at dinner.

We were all helping Esme bring the food to the table like normal. Trying to make small talk along the way.

Jasper had his back to me, and was just about to grab something off the counter when I struck.

I didn't even really think about it before I did it either. It was like a force greater than me made me do it.

I couldn't even stop myself.

I don't even know what the name of this exact move is. It is just a fake out.

You sneak up behind someone, stand on one side of them, then reach around and tap their opposite shoulder. They turn to that side and no one is there. They look like an idiot.

Simple really.

But so, so funny.

And it worked.

Perfect execution. I went right while he looked left.

I have been pulling this same move for at least 10 years. He should have known I wasn't going to be on his left side.

But he fell for it.

What a dumbass.

Oh, but that wasn't even the best part.

I immediately busted out laughing at him and he instinctively hit me as hard as he could in the arm.

This made me start belly laughing and I fell to the floor clutching my stomach.

Without skipping a beat Edward, being the overly chivalrous boy that he is, yelled, "Don't hit her!" And then he punched Jasper in the arm.

Actually, punched Jasper for punching me.

Amazing.

I couldn't breathe.

Tears were honestly streaming down my face.

I hadn't laughed that hard in years.

My dad and Esme immediately grounded both boys for their insensitive actions.

Cruel and unusual punishment.

I tried arguing that they shouldn't get in trouble for something that broke all the tension in the house for the first time in months, but I could barely get words out.

I continued to giggle the whole time during dinner, still not able to believe that Jasper fell for it so wonderfully.

After dinner the boys were sent to their rooms for the night, banned from TV, Internet, cell phones, and music.

Not fair.

About an hour after solitary confinement began, I snuck into Jasper's room with Sadie and _She's the Man_.

_She's the Man_ is one of our favorite movies to watch together. We both find it hilarious and it satisfies his crush on Amanda Bynes and mine on Channing Tatum. A perfect combination.

Jasper immediately brightened up at the sight of me walking in with contraband.

We spent tonight playing with my kitten and talking about everything and nothing at all.

Completely forgetting the movie was even playing.

There was no need for apologies.

He would never say he was sorry and I didn't want him to.

It was nice to have that split second of normalcy in my life.

I wish could have thanked him out loud for subconsciously knowing exactly what I needed.

He has always been there for me.


	10. July 12th, 2009

July 12th, 2009

My dad made us go to church today.

The last time I went, I was five.

I guess he thinks it's time I began to make up with God.


	11. July 13th, 2009

July 13th, 2009

My dad forced me to start therapy today.

I think it should be my choice to go. Not his or the doctors.

They think I am not showing enough emotion.

Just because I haven't cried doesn't mean that I don't know what is happening to me. What my future holds.

I see enough crying in the house. I don't need to add to it.

Every time I see my dad or Jasper cry, I want to just run away and save them from having to watch me die.

It isn't fair to them.

If I just left one day it would be a loss, but not as bad as this is. It would be like quickly ripping off a band-aid. It would sting for a while, but the pain would alleviate so much more quickly than slowly ripping it off hair by hair.

I just want to run.

Die alone.

Save everyone else the pain.

My therapist wants me to talk about everything I am feeling.

What happens if I don't even know what I am feeling?

Some days I am sad. Some I am mad.

Most days I am just numb.

I have no feelings at all.

She keeps telling me that it's okay to be mad or sad or frustrated.

I don't need permission to feel.

I just want to be left alone.

Alice is coming tonight.

Esme is having her sleep in the guest room. I put up a small fight to have her stay in my room because I was supposed to.

Esme said I should have my own space.

Thank you, Esme.


	12. July 14th, 2009

July 14, 2009

My dad and I went to the school today to talk with the administration about my plan for the year.

Everyone wants me in school as long as possible.

I have no idea why it is so important.

It is not like I need to learn anything anymore.

Everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes the moment we walked in the room.

I hate that they have to know.

I don't want anyone knowing. I want school to be my normalcy.

But no.

All my teachers will know. The nurse. All the people in the office.

They better not tell any of the students. I don't want to be the freak at school.

One cool thing is that I get to miss as many days of school as I need to.

So pretty much, I have a free pass to fake sick.

I am supposed to constantly tell the nurse how I am feeling.

Yeah, the woman who believes an ice pack will solve any medical problem. _She_ is going to be in charge of my medical well-being at school.

I'll just end up calling my dad.

He went to med school. He always knows what to do.

The whole meeting was pretty meaningless for me until we got to the one topic I cared about.

Would I be allowed to play volleyball for my last year?

The administration said they would rather not have me playing.

My hopes were crushed.

But my dad wasn't taking no for an answer.

It took him almost an hour to convince them that I should be allowed to play.

He knew it was on my list.

Volleyball has always been my release in life.

Everything I've been going through just evaporates when I set foot on the court.

I stop thinking and just let loose.

I've always been happy on the court. We could be losing a big game or running laps for punishment in practice. Anything was better than _not_ being on the court.

I have been working hard since my last surgery to be able to play.

The doctors have been amazed by my willpower.

I should still be in a wheelchair.

Instead, I am beginning to run again.

Missing part of my femur isn't going to stop me.

I can't fight for my life anymore, but I can fight for one of the most enjoyable parts of it.

Volleyball is my life.

I don't want to lose that before I need to.

I'm probably not going to play much.

I won't get to be the starting outside hitter like I once was.

But just being on the team and just touching the ball is still better than sitting on the bleachers.

The administration finally agreed with my dad.

I have to get two doctors to sign off on it, but my dad says it won't be a problem.

I am still beaming at the news.

When we finally got back home, Alice, Jasper, and Edward playing in the pool.

I joined them in games of Marco Polo and chicken.

Then Alice and I painted our nails while tanning and reading celebrity gossip magazines.

I gained some of my life back.


	13. July 19th, 2009

July 19th, 2009

Having Alice here has made life so much different.

I no longer always feel alone.

It is almost like it used to be.

We sit around in my room every day and just talk. It doesn't matter what the subject is. We just giggle our way through.

Esme took us for a spa day on Thursday and to the mall to go shopping for school on Saturday.

But we've mostly just been hanging around the pool with Jasper and Edward. Enjoying the summer.

It's been nice; not over stimulating.

Very similar to our summers in Forks.

Only this time I have to go to the hospital weekly for tests and new medicines.

I also have a cat to take care of.

A cool responsibility.

Tonight, I went to a support group at Seattle Children's for kids and teenagers with terminal cancer.

I wasn't looking forward to it at all, but I actually think it will be helpful.

Two groups meet at once: one for the patients and one for our families.

I am glad everyone in my family will have people they can really relate to.

I was nervous before I walked into my meeting.

Would everyone look sick?

Would it just be depressing?

Would I be able to relate to anyone?

Have they accepted what is happening to them or are they mad like me?

So many unknowns that could only be answered by going into the room.

When I finally gained the courage I was surprised by what I saw. Everyone was laughing and talking to each other. Checking up on what had gone on during the week between meetings.

Some kids were bald, but others look completely healthy.

No one looked like they were about to die.

But the age range of the kids really got to me.

The members' ages ranged from teenagers, like me, all the way down to little kids.

How could a 5 year old process what was happening to him?

I couldn't even do it at 16.

Eventually we sat down and kids began talking. Sharing their experiences for the past week. Any random thoughts they wanted to share with the group.

Everyone seemed so mature.

I guess, you have to be.

I wasn't forced to talk, for which I was grateful.

I am more of a "sit back and observe then decide what to say" kind of person.

I didn't want to say something stupid.

But I learned so much in an hour.

A 9 year old girl talking about how excited she was for a surgery to remove tumors in her spine that should extend her time by at least a month. How precious each extra day was to her.

A 14 year old girl talking about starting school in the fall and how much she was looking forward to high school.

They very thing I was upset about having to go to.

A 6 year old boy upset that he won't be able to dress up as Spiderman for Halloween this year.

He isn't going to make it that long.

Everyone had a story. Something to share.

Even though I couldn't directly relate, I felt what they were feeling.

I understood them.

I was a nice feeling.

Belonging.

At the end of the session, a girl spoke about the strain she was placing on her family and they guilt she felt.

She was 17, her name was Leah.

It was like she was taking the words out of my mouth.

Her guilt was my guilt.

When the hour was over I went over to talk to her.

We talked as we walked to the meeting room where our families were waiting.

She said brain cancer was declared terminal in May. She is expected to live six to nine months.

After each meeting there is a reception where people can talk to each other over cookies and coffee. Leah and I continued talking over the next hour about what we were going through and how we were dealing with everything.

I admitted I was not dealing with it.

She admitted that there were days she wanted to take her own life and spare everyone the waiting game, but also that more and more she was willing to fight harder than she ever thought possible.

We understood each other.

It was nice to talk to her.

She told me something that helps her get through the bad days: Make a goal date to reach.

Hers is Christmas. Just one last Christmas to spend with her parents and little brother.

We exchanged phone numbers and parted ways until next Sunday.

The drive home was animated.

Jasper and Edward found some boys their ages who all had siblings in my group.

My dad and Esme appreciated hearing other parents' points of views.

I used the ride to think about my goal.

My cancer was declared terminal July 1st, 2009.

Six months is January 1st, 2010. New Year's Day.

It was comforting to know I would make it to 2010. A new decade.

A year will be July 1st, 2010.

But I just want to make it to June 20th, 2010.

Father's Day.

Give my dad one last celebration and happy memory on his day.


	14. July 22nd, 2009

July 22nd, 2009

Edward has been more emo than normal lately and I have been getting a sick pleasure out of it.

Little Eddie is by far the most emotional person I have ever met.

I blame Esme.

Coddling anyone that much is just not healthy.

Edward is my little brother.

My extremely annoying, frustrating little brother.

It doesn't matter that we are not related by blood, he's still my brother.

No one is allowed to mess with him beside Jasper or me. I will step in.

I protect him like I protect everyone else I love.

I don't actually remember my life without him.

My dad started dating Esme when I was only two.

They were married when I was three.

Edward has always been…different.

Jasper and I were constantly outside growing up. Playing any sport we could learn, climbing trees, playing in the mud.

Edward wasn't a fan of nature or fresh air. He spent his days in his room playing musical instruments and reading.

Weird.

At 15, he still throws hissy fits when he doesn't get what he wants, or when he can't control something.

Like today.

Alice and I were watching my _Gossip Girl_ DVDs in the living room.

We were being quiet. I was having harsh side effects from a new medication, and moving around was not very appealing at the time.

So Edward walked in, clearly shocked at us being there, and yelled at us for interrupting his TV time.

Um, okay.

So instead of using words like a normal person he grabbed the remote and turned of the DVD.

Alice and Edward have a special relationship.

She tolerates him so much better than Jasper or I ever have.

But no one gets between Alice and her favorite TV show.

So she tackled him to the ground effectively stealing the remote back in the process.

Never underestimate Alice. She may only be 85 pounds, but she has the spirit of a lion and I have never seen her lose a fight with one of the boys.

She turned the show back on while Edward proceeded to get more worked up.

He does this weird breathing thing when he gets upset. It seriously looks like he is about to burst.

Even in my impaired state, I started cracking up and calling him a baby, which of course set him off even more.

He jumped off the ground and stormed up stairs, clearly going to tell on us.

Since, you know, we are four years old.

Why he has to watch Discovery channel downstairs opposed to his room will never make any sense to me.

I didn't hear from him again until dinner.

I am glad his complaints where shut down by either my dad or his mom.

He wouldn't make eye contact with either of us at dinner.

Alice and I just giggled.

After dinner he stormed into our parents' room without a word.

My dad told me that I needed to be more sensitive to his feelings.

This was hard on him.

Sure, dad, I will go out of my way to comfort _him_.

I let Sadie go in his room for an hour while he was watching TV in the other room.

I hope his nose is super stuffy in morning.


	15. July 25th, 2009

July 25th, 2009

Today Esme took Alice and me horseback riding at a mountain right outside of Seattle.

I didn't realize how much I missed riding until I got onto the horse.

Her name was Rosebud.

We immediately bonded.

She was so beautiful. A brown coat with jet black hair and a patch of white running down her nose.

She reminded me a lot of my old horse, Misty.

Yes, I am spoiled. I asked for a pony when I was seven and, unlike most little girls who ask for the same thing, I actually got one.

I used to jump competitively and I needed a horse to train with, so my dad bought me one for my birthday.

I used to ride her all the time.

But then we moved away from Seattle to Forks for my dad's new chief of surgery job in Port Angeles, and we had to give my horse away.

She was just one thing in a long list that I did like about living in Forks.

My mom grew up there.

I tried to use the town to have a bond with her, but I was never really happy there.

But town was small.

And extremely boring.

Alice was the only saving grace.

Esme designed a house for us next door to Alice's.

We used to dream about going away to boarding school on the East Coast and living in New York once we graduated from college.

We just had to get away from that town.

Little did I know how much I would yearn to be back there when I was forced to leave.

Today, though, I was able to forget all of that.

The trails up the mountain were beautiful.

It was such a clear day; we could see for miles.

Rosebud was so relaxing.

She helped me forget everything.

Esme packed us lunch for all of us to eat when we got to the top.

It was perfect.

A picnic over looking Puget Sound.

We barely even talked.

We didn't need to.

Alice decided she wanted to explore a little more on a different trail and Esme volunteered to go with her.

It was there, looking over the city, the rivers, the lakes, and the mountains that I finally broke down.

All of my carefully placed walls crumbled and I began to cry. .

I clutched my new friend and let all of the sadness over the past year come out.

I wasn't mad anymore.

I was sad.

This wasn't what I wanted out of life.

I worked so hard in school and sports so I could be in control of my future.

Of my destiny.

And it was all ripped away from me.

I had no future.

My destiny was death.

I wish I could have died suddenly. I don't even care how.

Because death isn't the worst part of this.

It is the waiting to die

I stood on that mountain hugging that horse for what seemed like days, even if it was only an hour.

I finally let myself feel.

And the tears actually felt good.

I cried for my dad who would never get to walk his daughter down the aisle.

I cried for my grandparents, all six of them, who would bury their grandchild before themselves.

I cried for Jasper, Esme, and Edward who would have to learn to live life without their sister and daughter.

But most of all, I cried for myself.

I cried for the pain I have been in for so long.

I cried because I knew something was seriously wrong and no one believed me.

I cried for my dreams that would never come true.

And I cried because I couldn't do anything about it.

Esme and Alice finally came back.

They didn't say anything.

They knew I didn't want to talk.

We rode back down the mountain in silence. Just enjoying the sights and sound of nature around us.

When we got back home, Esme gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

She didn't say she was sorry or try to comfort me in any other way.

She gave me what I needed and left me alone to think.

Alice and I began packing our bags for Europe.

I have never seen her so excited for something in my life.

I hope the trip goes well.

I turned a corner today.

I am dying.

I have every right to cry about it.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for all of your reviews and support. The response I got about the support group was so sweet and blew me away.

I am leaving to go to Europe for Spring Break today. (I know, I know self insert)

I will be back on the week of the 29th with new chapters. A special someone needs to be introduced.

Thank you again for reading my story. You have no idea how much it means to me. :)


	16. August 10th, 2009

August 10th, 2009

Europe was amazing.

There were no doctors. No nurses. No blood tests. No IVs.

Just historic buildings, beautiful scenery, and delicious food.

There, I wasn't a girl who was dying or who had cancer.

I was just 16.

Normal.

The only thing I really want to be.

Okay, normal may be a slight exaggeration.

We didn't exactly do this trip normally. We did it first class.

It was everything I have ever dreamed of and more. Super nice hotels, first class seats on the airplane, the best restaurants.

My dad wanted this to be a trip of a lifetime and it was.

He even let me drink for the first time.

It was weird because it was with my dad, but still cool.

It's not like Alice or I got wasted or anything, but it just felt so grown up.

I wish I were born in London.

It was just beautiful. Everything.

We went to all the sights. We even had a picnic in Hyde Park one day. My dream.

I thought both Alice and I were going to have a heart attack when we stepped into Harrods for the firs time.

Holy shit.

They had _everything_.

I have never seen a store that big in my life.

Alice and I decided we wanted to live in the store. I bet we could survive for at least a year in there without having to leave.

So cool.

The best part about London, though, weas the accents. Beautiful.

We spoke with faux-British accents off and on for the rest of the trip. We now are determined to integrate "fancy" into our everyday vocabulary since "fancy" is so much cooler as a verb than as an adjective.

Paris was also pretty.

Alice enjoyed it more than anyone since she is obsessed with all things French.

The only thing I cared about was seeing the Eiffel Tower.

I just wanted a picture.

Alice insisted that we get to the top so we could see the whole city.

There are both elevators and stairs built into the tower to get to the first and second levels and an elevator to get to the third.

I voted for the elevator, but the line was long and not moving so we decided to take the stairs.

Alice must have been extremely determined to get to the top because she forgot a minor detail.

She is deathly afraid of heights.

And the Eiffel Tower is extremely high.

So we waited in line for at least an hour to buy our tickets and start our ascent up the stairs.

About three flights up, that tiny detail Alice forgot about came to her extremely quickly.

She completely froze and all of the color drained from her face.

My dad was holding my arm and helping me on the climb so we didn't notice until we virtually bumped straight into her.

She couldn't do it.

It was just too scary.

We tried to talk to her and calm her down, but she couldn't move at all. She was completely panicked.

So we quickly realized that we would in fact not be seeing the view of the city and turned around to walk back down the stairs.

But Alice still couldn't move.

She was too high and starting to hyperventilate.

Great.

So my dad came to the rescue, as he so often does, and carried Alice down the stairs while she kept her head deeply buried in his chest.

It was priceless.

Don't worry. I took pictures.

When we finally reached the ground poor Alice was in tears. Both scared from the experience and mad at herself for not making it.

But Alice didn't have to be sad for long because my dad found a loophole in the system.

There was a restaurant on the second level of the tower that had its own elevator and took us up without a wait. We just had to spend 75 euro for a piece of chicken.

No big deal.

My dad paid for it, though. Just because he knew how much Alice wanted to see the city.

At least the meal was really good.

London was my city.

Paris was Alice's.

Florence was my dad's.

He is fascinated by Italian history and culture.

All Alice and I cared about was the food.

He took us all over the city and the surrounding countryside.

It was beautiful.

And the food was indeed amazing.

The best part of our trip was that we never had to walk anywhere.

I hate walking.

Walking around big cities for two weeks would be torture to me.

My dad hired cars and found taxis for us because he was worried about my leg. It was awesome.

I would even lie about the pain sometimes to keep us from walking.

What can I say? I am an extremely lazy person. I work out enough in sports. Extra exercise is definitely not needed.

I am glad we went. This was my trip of a lifetime, even if I had a full life ahead of me, I could never forget it.

But sadly, we had to come home.

I had to get back to the hospitals and doctors and constant tests that I worked so hard to forget.

And worse, I had to come to therapy.

This shrink needs to get a life.

She was so excited about my crying "development."

"Everything will be so much easier for you now," she said.

Oh yeah?

How is it going to be easier?

I am still dying.

Crying isn't going to stop that.

I think she just likes hearing herself talk.

Waste of money.

I stopped talking after her stupid comment.

Sorry lady; I don't like liars.


	17. August 14th, 2009

August 14th, 2009

I should have really expected this, but I didn't.

Okay, that's not completely true, but I assumed that once we made it through the first two weeks, we were in the clear.

But you know what they say about assuming…

Today, Alice broke down.

I noticed that she wasn't completely herself when I arrived home from physical therapy this morning, but I didn't really think anything of it.

But later, she didn't want to leave the living room.

That was really weird.

She had been insisting that we went to school this year as tan as our extremely pale bodies could get. Ever since she moved in, we had gone out to tan for at least 30 minutes every day.

We were completely sun burnt for the first two weeks, but eventually we slowly gained a few shades of color.

Skin cancer isn't exactly something I have to worry about anymore.

We couldn't really tan in Europe, so she had been making me put in extra hours ever since we got back.

So the fact that she didn't want to go outside this afternoon got my attention.

When I asked her what was wrong, she just said she didn't feel like it today.

I was actually slightly excited by not having to apply three layers of sunscreen, so I went with it.

Edward was not happy about this decision to take over his TV once again, so I threw him a bone and took Alice up to my room to watch movies.

We were watching _Mean Girls_ for the millionth time when I figured out that there was something seriously wrong.

Alice and I love that movie.

We quote it all the time, and know every single line.

Every time we watch it, we add in our own commentary and act out different scenes.

It's just our thing.

But by twenty minutes into the movie, she hadn't said a word.

I paused the movie to ask what the hell was wrong with her. That's when I noticed she was crying.

I don't handle tears well.

Plus, this is Alice we are talking about. In our six years of being best friends, I have probably seen her cry five times.

I had no idea what I should do.

So I asked her what was wrong.

Her answer was simple.

"You are dying."

I have said that phrase so many times in past month, that I thought I was immune to it. But this time it hit me harder than I could have ever imagined.

No one had actually said those words to _me_.

The doctors just say "terminal" and focus on the time I had left.

My family doesn't have the guts to say it so bluntly.

But my best friend does.

And her words made my stomach drop and my whole body go numb.

Before I could even process the reaction I has having, Alice had thrown her small body at me and was hugging me as tightly as she could.

As we sat there clinging to each other, I couldn't tell where my tears ended and hers began.

We cried together, as though we were one person.

Just like we have always been.

It's strange because on paper, we were complete opposites.

Physically, we could not be more different.

I am 6' tall. She is 4'10.

I have blonde hair and blue eyes. She has black hair and dark brown eyes.

Ever since puberty, I have been curvy. She has always been stick skinny.

Our personalities are opposite as well.

I am constantly cool and collected. She is hyper and impulsive.

I wait for people to talk to me. She is the life of the party.

I am a pessimist. She has always been an eternal optimist.

And yet, we work.

Opposites really do attract.

But it isn't our differences that make up our friendship, it is our balance.

When my family moved to Forks, Alice was the first person I met.

I was sitting out on our lawn moping about leaving my school and my friends in Seattle when Alice walked over from next door.

She was so little. I thought she was seven instead of ten.

She introduced herself and talked my ear off for the next hour about how excited she was that her new neighbors had kids in the family since she was always alone on the block. She told me all about school and what she liked to do for fun.

Her happiness was weird to me.

I was trying to be mad at the injustices done to me, but she wore off on me.

It took one week for Alice to ask me to be her best friend.

Saying yes was the best decision I have ever made.

Alice wasn't a normal kid in Forks.

She wanted so much more for her life.

She needed to move away and be successful.

Alice never settles for anything but perfection.

Throughout the years, we planned our whole futures out.

We would graduate high school at the top of our class.

I would be valedictorian. She would be salutatorian.

I would go to Columbia like I had dreamed of for as long as I could remember. She would go to NYU.

We would each date two boys during undergrad: one for only a few months. One for over a year.

The relationships would end. We would be sad, but we would learn.

I would go to medical school at Cornell, modeling on the side for extra spending money. She would start working for an investment banking company on Wall Street.

We would live in a little apartment with brick exposed walls. It would be small, but we would be proud. Our little home together.

We would meet our future husbands at 23.

My husband and I would date for five years before we got married. I would wait until I was done with residency.

Alice would last a year and a half before walking down the aisle. She has always been impatient.

Alice's wedding would be huge and luxurious. Mine would be small and beautiful.

At 30, we would each have our first child.

My daughter's name would be Delaney. Her son's would be Presley.

Throughout our 30s, I would add three more daughters: Kennedy, Paisley, and Hattie. She would add another boy and a girl: Cash and Olive.

We would live in New York City in the same building, raising our families together and always being there for each other.

One day, one of my daughters would marry one of her sons.

We would officially be what we have always been.

Family.

Alice promised this would happen.

She is always so good at predicting things.

But this time, she's wrong.

Half of our plan will never happen.

I won't be there.

As we sat there crying we talked about these things.

How she needed to change her plan. Her future.

How I would always be with her. Always watching out for her.

I promised to be her guardian angel.

My family is going to lose a sister and a daughter.

But Alice is going to lose a best friend: someone who knows her more than she knows herself. Someone who has always been there for her.

I think what she is losing is worse.

I could never imagine my life without Alice.

Now, Alice is going to have to live her life without me.

I couldn't handle it if things were the other way around.

I am the one who gets to die.

I get off easy.


	18. August 16th, 2009

August 16th, 2009

Today, a woman from Make-A-Wish Foundation came to our house and told me they are going to grant me a wish.

She gave me various examples of what other kids ask for like trips to Disney World and cruises for them and their families, but she kept the options pretty open ended.

I don't actually understand why they offered me a wish.

I mean, yeah, I fit the criteria. But my family has money.

Much more money than we could ever really use. If I want to go anywhere, I just have to ask my dad to book some tickets and bam, we will be there. Hello, Europe.

I think the foundation would be better off saving the money spent on me and giving it to a kid who isn't as fortunate.

But the lady and my dad explained to me that I am going through something no one should ever have to go through—especially not a 16 year old—so after awhile I agreed to use the wish.

I am, however, going to use this one wisely.

I don't need to use it to _go_ anywhere, but I am going to use it to _get me in_ somewhere.

I figure I have no connections to the entertainment, music, or modeling industries, so that's where my focus is going to lie.

Alice and I spent all day thinking of possibilities of what I could do.

After hours of deliberation, we narrowed it down to going on a movie or television set, or some kind of modeling runway show.

The lady from Make-A-Wish even told me I could be a model in the runway show if I wanted to.

That has always been my dream.

But I am also completely obsessed with both celebrities and TV shows, so I could definitely kill two birds with one stone on that one.

I don't know. I get a few days to decide.

Alice can't come with me on my wish, though. Which makes the wish not as cool.

She is my immediate family. Why can't they see that? It isn't like Edward and I are related by blood either.

My dad told me he was going to try to work something out for her.

I know he will come through for me.

Tonight, we had the support group again.

My family went out to eat with Leah's before the meeting, which was really nice.

I am glad not only Leah and I have bonded, but that our parents and brothers have bonded as well.

Leah and her family are from the Indian reservation in the town next to Forks.

Jasper and Edward had both actually meet Leah's younger brother, Seth, already. Jasper knew him from surfing in La Push and Edward had meet him through Bella's friend, Jacob.

I wish I could have met Leah before we were sick.

Our personalities are so similar.

She is snarky and sarcastic while being protective and tenacious.

I like her a lot.

Leah and her family live in the Ronald McDonald house now, since they can't afford to rent a house or an apartment in the city.

I wish my dad could just buy them one.

Every family has a sick kid where she is staying. She tells me how depressing it is to go to breakfast and see a bald girl, clearly going through chemo, fighting to keep her breakfast down every morning or hearing the boy next door crying in his room while recovering from surgery.

I am not surrounded by constant reminders all the time.

She is and it isn't fair.

It turns out she got a wish, too, and took her family to Hawaii for a week while I was in Europe.

Her parents had always dreamed of going, so she chose it for them.

My wish is so much more selfish.

She is a better person than I am.

At group, I talked about Alice, and how I felt like all of us in the room are the lucky ones because we are able to die. We aren't the ones left behind.

So many people hadn't thought of things that way and I was glad I could finally add something perceptive to the meeting.

Normally, it was the little kids who taught me everything.

Looking at them was always the hardest.

I didn't want to get attached to any of them.

I don't want to have to say goodbye.

I just can't see how there is a God if these innocent children are dying.

But they are all so optimistic.

Some of them focus on heaven.

How all of their favorite things will be waiting for them when they get there.

Others, cling to life.

Enjoying every day they get.

How do they even know to do that?

I am just pissed off that I don't get to live the life I deserve.

How do they still go to their chemo and radiation with smiles on their faces and talk about looking forward to watching _Finding Nemo_ that night?

I wish they could teach me to love life.

Because I hate this.

I hate the pain. I hate the tears. I hate what I am doing to everyone I love.

I just want it over.

I need these five and six year olds to teach me about living.


	19. August 19th, 2009

August 19th, 2009

My dad and Esme surprised me, Jasper, and Edward Monday by waking us up at 5 in the morning and taking us back to Forks for our final week of summer vacation.

Well, I guess it isn't technically our last week of vacation, but soccer and volleyball start on Monday for me and Jasper and school starts on the 9th, so it this is our last week of complete freedom.

It is really weird being back home again.

I haven't set foot inside this house since the beginning of March.

My room is almost exactly the same as I left it. Only a few of my most valuable and favorite items are back in Seattle. My bed is still unmade from when I left.

I spent the first hour home showing Sadie around the house and telling her stories of growing up here.

I remember it a lot more fondly now that I'm reminiscing.

Alice is still staying with us, but has been going home for an hour or two every day.

As much as she was happy to be with us for the summer, I know she is homesick and needs to tell her mom every detail of her summer away.

They are extremely close.

Now that we are back, Bella is sadly involved in everything we do.

Ugh.

I just can't like that girl.

But at least Edward is slightly less emo and I have some guilt lifted off of me with them being reunited once again.

After dinner on Monday, Jasper, Alice and I decided to make a huge fort out of our living room just like we used to do when we were 12 and sleep in it for the rest of the week.

Now that we are older, we make much better forts than we used to.

No more waking up in the middle of the night because the whole top has fallen down and the blankets are smothering you.

It is intricate now.

With sections for sleeping, talking, and watching movies.

We have been watching random chick flicks and funny movies that we have grown up loving all while eating Esme's homemade kettle corn until we all pass out one by one every night.

It's nice.

Edward and Bella even camped out with us last night.

I have no idea how they convinced Charlie that it was okay for Bella to sleep over with Edward. I am guessing they pulled the dying card.

Poor, poor Charlie.

You just can't say no to that one.

It was actually kind of nice having them there too.

They were still incredibly annoying and made me want to vomit from their cuddling, but we were all together.

Just like normal.

It was so nice to feel normal again.

Our days have been spent in La Push at the beach.

I have taken a bunch of pictures for Leah.

I want her to see that nothing has changed since she has been gone.

I find consistency comforting. I hope she does too.

Jasper has spent the last 3 days trying to teach Alice and me how to surf.

Little did I know, surfing is hard.

I thought it was just paddle, paddle, paddle then stand up.

Okay, well maybe it is still paddle, paddle, paddle then stand up, but holy shit, standing up is not easy.

I am 6 feet tall.

That is an incredibly long way for my brain to communicate to my limbs.

And balance has never exactly been my thing.

Now, running into random objects? _That_ is my thing.

Of course, Alice picked it up after two tries.

She is a miniature person and stupidly graceful.

Jasper was so proud she picked it up so fast.

She kept saying it was his great teaching that made it so easy.

Bullshit.

It took me three whole days to stand up.

Three. Days.

But when I finally did, I was elated.

I am naturally really good at all sports, so it was killing me that I couldn't do this.

Alice and Jasper could catch wave after wave all while I swallowed more salt water than could ever be considered healthy.

I almost gave up.

Then a few waves in today, everything finally clicked and I stood up.

Esme took pictures, while the rest of my family cheered me on.

Normally, that would be completely embarrassing, but I was so proud of myself that I didn't care.

The rest of today was spent having fun.

We surfed together, made sand castles, played in the water, and buried Alice in the sand then pretended to leave while she was stuck.

We came home to a huge barbeque at Alice's parents house with our families and Bella's.

It was the perfect day.

Then when I was standing at the refrigerator grabbing sodas for our fort, Esme told me how proud she was that I stood up today.

I smiled and said that I was too, and then tried to go back to the living room to watch _Happy Gilmore_ with Jasper and Alice. But she just _had_ to keep talking.

She told me standing up was like overcoming my terminal diagnosis. If I kept fighting, I could defeat it. I could finally stand up.

Esme, I really don't need your philosophical bullshit right now.

I got pissed and told her not to say stuff like that and she wouldn't stop arguing with me so I said the five words that were guaranteed to shut her up.

"You are not my mother."

I walked away knowing she was crying, forgetting the sodas and the movie.

Once out of the kitchen, I ran up to my room, found my cat, and cried to into my pillow.

I don't want to think there is any kind of hope that I could survive.

It is all false hope.

Accepting that I am going to die is hard enough.

Adding in hope makes it impossible.


	20. August 22nd, 2009

August 22nd, 2009

We left Alice in Forks.

I will never forgive my parents for letting that happen.


	21. September 8th, 2009

September 8th, 2009

_AP US History_

_AP Biology_

_AP English Language_

_AP Calculus AB_

_Acting_

_Volleyball_

That is my ridiculous schedule for this year.

Seriously, Dad? You couldn't let me take normal classes?

According to him, this would have been my "normal" schedule and he wants me to "continue living life as though I am not sick."

Newsflash: I am sick.

Whatever, it isn't like grades matter anymore.

And I don't have to take French this year. Bonus.

Volleyball for the past two and a half weeks has been…less than stellar.

It just isn't the same anymore.

I am used to being the best and now I can't even make it through practice without having to sit down and rest.

Stupid leg. Stupid medicines. Stupid cancer.

I don't even want to play anymore.

I am probably not even going to be able to play in the games.

I am not useful anymore.

I can't earn my spot on the court.

And there is nothing worse than sitting on the sidelines.

But I can't quit.

I have never quit anything in my life and I don't intend to start now.

The worst part is that everyone knows I am sick.

Rachel and Kelly played on my club team. They knew that I was hospitalized last year and that was the reason I couldn't play last spring. They just don't know what I am sick with.

Or that little "impending death" thing.

Now they see that I am not my old self at all, both physically and mentally, and I can barely play.

If they ask me what I am sick with one more time, I am going to scream.

The school has decided to let me hide my cancer as long as I want to. They think telling the students " would be a great learning experience for my peers," but I disagree and they are keeping quiet.

I don't want the stares. The fake sympathy. The special treatment. The rejection.

I want to make friends because they like me as a person.

Not that I really intend to make friends.

Any extra attachment at this point is not necessary. I already feel guilty enough for putting the people around me through this.

I will just talk to people in passing and stick with Jasper and Edward.

Everything is easier that way.

I wish tomorrow would never come.

I look sick now.

My hair that I fought far too hard to keep during chemo, is now thinning rapidly from the combination of medicines going into my body daily.

My body looks emaciated now.

Keeping my food down has been a huge challenge for the past month.

I used to envy Alice's extremely skinny body. I hated my curves.

I keep finding out the grass is really not greener on the other side.

Even the hard work I put into tanning this summer hasn't paid off.

I am losing color daily.

I just look gross.

School is going to suck.


	22. September 10th, 2009

September 10th, 2009

This guy in a couple of my classes came up and talked to me today after volleyball practice.

He is on Jasper's soccer team.

He is really tall, and pretty nice, I guess.

But he drives a supped up Jeep.

Clearly, he is making up for something.


	23. September 13th, 2009

September 13th, 2009

We went to back to Forks yesterday for Bella's 16th birthday.

Edward had this bright idea to throw her a surprise party at our house the day before her actual birthday so they could spend today alone.

Clearly, he doesn't know his girlfriend at all.

Or he likes to watch her squirm as much as I do.

I don't know which would make me happier.

But still, I didn't want to go.

First of all, I was tired. Really, _really_ tired.

We only had three days of school this week, but I also had volleyball every day, and I wasn't used to putting out so much energy day after day.

All summer my days had been structured.

All of my appointments were spread out throughout the week and daily naps were always included in my schedule.

Sadly, I am not in Kindergarten anymore, so napping at school just isn't going to happen now.

Naps have always been the best part of my day.

Seven hours of school every day, plus volleyball practice, and doctors' appointment,s and therapy completely drains me.

Let's not even talk about how I am going to do homework and study for tests once school picks up.

So yeah, I was tired and I just wanted to sleep my Saturday away instead of celebrating Bella's birth.

But that wasn't the biggest problem I had with going back to Forks.

Everyone I knew from home was going to be at this party.

Edward wanted Bella's sweet sixteen to be "perfect," which for him meant that everyone from Forks High School would be there along with virtually every other person who lived in town.

_A lot_ of people were going to be there.

Those same people whose calls, emails, and texts I have avoided for the past six months.

Those same people I made sure didn't know I was visiting in August.

I didn't want them to see me.

I didn't want them to know what was wrong.

It was well known in town that I was sick. Really sick.

It was pretty obvious when I was pulled out of school, my dad took an infinite leave of absence from the hospital, and we left town for the best hospital around.

Then I never came back.

Instead, the rest of my family left their lives behind and moved with us.

Because it was serious.

Our family just kept the details of what I was actually sick with out of the conversations.

I didn't want everyone to know. My family respected that.

Only the Brandons and Swans knew the truth.

Edward and Esme went up to Forks on Friday after school let out, then my dad, Jasper, and I left once our practices were over yesterday morning.

I really wanted to stay at home.

I didn't want anyone to see me.

The sick me.

So I threw a tantrum like a two year old.

I know.

Mature.

I knew I wasn't going to get away with it.

My parents like Bella more than me.

They always have.

Don't worry, though, I turned on super bitch mode for the 3-hour drive.

Just in case they didn't understand that I was pissed.

The only good thing about going back was that I got to see Alice.

I missed seeing her face every day. Our daily phone calls and Skype conversions just went enough.

When we got to the house, I ran over to Alice's place so I could avoid everyone and the lectures about being nice and putting on a smile for the night.

She had tivoed the two episodes of 90210 that have already aired this season and we watched them together.

It just isn't the same watching them without her.

Even if we are on the phone during each episode adding in our commentary.

It hasn't been the same, and I am sick of change.

We snuck into my house right before the guests began to arrive, and hid in my room.

I had tried to mentally prepare myself for the party, but I just couldn't do it.

I want to be remembered for who I was.

Not for being sick, pissed off all the time, and most likely borderline depressed.

Most of all, I wanted them to remember what I looked liked back when I was beautiful.

I am nowhere close to that anymore.

Even Alice told me I wasn't looking too hot.

Like I needed a reminder.

So I locked myself in my room.

We came out when he heard the music die—the signal that Bella was about to walk in.

The look on her face was way too priceless to miss.

Just like I had anticipated, Bella flipped.

I laughed hard.

Flustered Bella has always been my favorite Bella.

I let Alice go down to the party after Bella arrived.

This was where Alice was in her element.

She was a social butterfly.

Just like I used to be.

I loved any kind of attention.

It was too selfish of me to keep her locked in my room.

My parents never came looking for me.

They knew it was for the best. I would have put up a fight and caused a scene.

It is what I have always done.

I actually didn't want to ruin Bella's day.

Shocking, I know.

People constantly asked about me.

I could hear them.

Everyone wants to know what was going on. Why I haven't come back. Where I was.

My family lied.

Just like they have been doing since March.

While listening to various Miley Cyrus and Jonas Brothers songs fill the house, I did my AP US homework.

I figured if I was up, I might as well be productive.

After a while, I heard a soft knock on the door.

I had a slight panic attack until I heard Bella's voice asking if she could come in.

She needed a place to hide too.

The party and the attention were just too much for her.

Way to go, Eddie.

I quietly wished her happy birthday and threw her one of those classic chick novels I had to read last year in English. She loved those way too much.

We silently did our own thing.

Or at least it was silent until I heard the sob.

Bella, you have got to be kidding me.

People need to stop fucking crying around me.

I don't like tears.

I awkwardly asked her what was wrong when she told me, just like Alice had, that I am dying.

Blunt.

It didn't hit me this time like it did with Alice.

Instead I was filled with pride.

Bella normally lacks the balls to say what is truly on her mind.

So I let her say everything she wanted to.

She listed her regrets that we were never very close and how she hopes to change that in the next few months.

Then she told me the best part of her birthday was that I was there.

That touched me.

I wasn't even at the party, but she knew more than anyone about not wanting attention.

For once, we understood each other.

Now, if I could just get her to stop obeying my over-controlling brother's every demand and have her realize that he is not they greatest thing in the whole world, we could maybe be friends.

Well, I guess she would probably also have to stop trying too hard to be perfect all the time, stop being a hypocrite, _learn how to dress for God's sake_, get some self-esteem, learn to actually stand by her convictions, and stop being so clueless all the time.

But you know, that could happen if she tired.

Then we could be friends.


	24. September 23rd, 2009

September 23rd, 2009

This whole not making friends thing is hard.

High school revolves around friendships.

Who you sit with at lunch. Who you talk to in class. Who invites you to parties. Who you hang out with on the weekends.

High school is a social event.

And I used to be the queen.

At first I was okay with staying by myself and only really talking to Jasper, Edward, and the volleyball team, but part of me still craves attention.

I need it.

Even if I don't want it.

Stupid contradictions summarize my life.

So I have started to make acquaintances at school.

It is imperative to have someone you can talk to in every class when trying to survive high school.

Instead of doing things the easy way and making friends with whatever chick is sitting next to me in each of my classes, I've taken a more scientific approach.

Find a person who is in many, if not _most_ of my classes as possible and befriend them.

This means less baggage and less people I am going to end up hurting.

Sadly, there is no one who is in all of my classes.

That would have been too easy.

But this boy named Emmett, you know, the one who drives the ugly Jeep? He's in 3 of them: AP Bio, AP Calc, and Acting.

Prime target.

Rachel and Kelly are in AP English so I am covered in that one.

And I have Jasper in AP US, since history is the only subject he cares enough about to put any effort into.

He is extremely intelligent.

He just refuses to try.

It's been easier making friends with Emmett than I had expected.

He had been going out of his way for the past few weeks to talk to me after school and in different classes.

Plus, he's friends with Jasper.

I just have to be careful, and walk a fine line with Emmett.

I need to be close enough to him so it looks like I have friends, and at the same time keep him far enough away so I don't end up hurting him later. I also can't let him suspect that there's anything wrong with me.

I can already tell I am going to be putting too much effort into this friendship.

And I feel kind of bad for using him.

But he is nice and going a long with everything so nicely. I can't_ not_ take advantage of the opportunity.

In other news, we had our fourth volleyball game tonight.

I get to serve for one of our middles.

Woopty doo.


End file.
